Peeta's Pearl
by LemonDropMartini
Summary: Peeta is rescued by the Rebels from the Quarter Quell. Katniss is captured by the Capitol, and there's a twist. Will the star crossed lovers find their way back to each other? Lemons - Everlark
1. Chapter 1

Peeta's Pearl

It is Peeta, not Katniss, who is saved from the Quell. Katniss is captured by the Capitol, and there is a surprise in store for Katniss.

Story:

I awaken to the sounds of machinery. The room is blindingly white, forcing me to close my eyes again. Tentatively, I reopen them to see Peacekeepers. I move to sit up, but my whole body has been strapped to the board they have me on. Frantically, I look around for Peeta. I spy Johanna next to me, and I am filled with rage. As I struggle against my bindings, a blurry figure approaches and pushes some buttons on the whirring machine. Everything goes dark.

In the distance, I hear the bright chattering of Effie. I go to put a pillow over my head before she announces that it's going to be a big, big day, in that sing songy voice of hers, but something cold and metallic stops me. My eyes snap open. I am handcuffed to a gurney.

I look around, and take in the bright colors of Effie's hair, jarring against the remake center walls. "Peeta!", my hoarse cry startles me. The brightly colored hair runs over to me, and Effie gathers me into her arms. She is shushing me, and rocking me gently. I can barely make out her voice when she begins whispering, the strained tones taking me by surprise.

"Katniss. You are safe. Your baby is safe..."

How is my fictional baby safe? My head swims as it tries to take in the new information, but it can't stay afloat, and I am soon drug into the blackness. When I come to, Effie has gathered my upper body into her arms and is rocking me as much as my restraints will allow. As the room stops spinning, her words come back to me.

"Effie" I ask hesitantly. "What do you mean?" Hesitantly, Effie begins speaking. "After you shot the arrow into the dome, we were able to get you, Johana and Enobaria out before the flames got too bad to save the rest. You've been here for 2 weeks, but you've been unconscious. The lightning strike was quite a jolt to your body. At first, we couldn't find the baby, but yesterday, we finally picked up the heartbeat." She pauses to watch all of this sink in, opens her mouth to continue, and must have decided that I need a moment, as she walks away and issues orders to an Avox.

Baby. There must be some mistake. Peeta had been lying when he had told the crowd about my baby. How does an imaginary baby get a heartbeat? But my mind flashes back to the tribute center, just after the reading of the training scores.

Peeta and I had been talking about our desires to be more than just a piece in the games, about our fear that President Snow had ordered that we die in the arena. Our conversation had drifted late into the night, and he had walked me to my room. When we got to my door, I asked Peeta, "So, what should we do with our last few days?"

"I just want to spend every possible minute of the rest of my life with you," replies Peeta.

"Come on, then," I say, pulling him into my room.

It feels like such a luxury, laying close to Peeta again. I didn't realize until now how I've been starved for human closeness, for the feel of him beside me in the darkness. I wish I hadn't wasted any nights shutting him out, but there's no turning back time. Then, one regret crosses my mind. I'm not planning to come out of the arena, and there's something I'd still like to do.

I turn to face Peeta, and find him still awake. I gather all of my courage as I press my lips to his, tasting a hint of lemon from dessert, briefly reflecting on how the sour and sweet work together. Peeta hesitates, breaking the kiss, he cups my face with his hand. He looks at me for a moment, searching my face for the meaning. As I stare into those deep blue pools, I see a mixture of love and adoration.

Nervousness creeps up, feeling like the all of the butterflies in the meadow by my house are fluttering around my stomach. As he pulls me into his arms, I bring me knee over his legs to straddle his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck and kissing him with a kiss that removes all question of what I want. One kiss turns to two, which turns to a sea of kisses, overlapping like the waves in 4. My pulse quickens and I can't get enough air, desire pooling at my core, an almost tingly feeling. I feel his hands move down my sides, his thumbs copping a feel as the move past my breasts and rest on my hips. My face flushes as I feel him harden beneath me.

As he sucks on the spot on my neck where my heartbeat is pulsing, I whisper words that tell him of how I have missed him. He groans sending vibrations straight to my core. My words have a stimulating effect on him. He grasps my hips, pulling me against his hardness as he rolls me beneath him. Peeta hovers above me a moment, before peppering me with gentle kisses. When his tongue finally reaches my lips, it is a shallow kiss. Rather than allowing me to regain composure, his slowing down does nothing but amp me up, making me desperate for more of him. More kisses, more caresses, more contact.

As he settles above me, trailing kisses down my feverish body, I hear the rending of fabric. Peeta scrambles off of me and we still for a moment, eyes wide, watching the door for someone to have heard something through the thin walls. The silence so permeating that I can hear Peeta and I breathing and nothing else. After what feels like an eternity, we move closer together again, but before he reaches me, I shake my head no. A look of disappointment flickers across his face as I go to my knees. I plant a gentle kiss on his lips before grabbing the hem of my nightgown and bringing it over my head in one fluid motion. I look up at Peeta, who is drinking me in. I settle back into the pillows, and he begins kissing a trail of kisses that on my forehead, and trail down my body, as though he's worshiping me. His hands join in the exploration, and I feel like a bow that has been strung too tight, as though I will snap at any moment. As if sensing my discomfort, he adds to my misery, taking the peak of my breast into his mouth through my bra. My back arches involuntarily as I moan his name. He gives me a look reminding me that I must keep quiet, but for tonight, the world outside of this bedroom ceases to exist. He caresses my cheek with his thumb as he pulls me forward and releases the clasp of my bra.

I lay back and watch him, taking in his beautiful blue eyes, darkened by desire. The eye lashes so long it's a miracle they don't tangle when he blinks. His fingertips barely touching me as it sweeps my bra off my shoulders, down my arms, and slingshots it across the room not caring where it lands. His mouth is instantly drawn to the pebbled nipple, drawing it into his mouth. I nearly cry out when he grazes it with his teeth, rather I turn my head and draw his thumb into my mouth, sucking on it, the giving the end a quick nip as he tries to draw it out. He lets out a ragged breath I didn't know he had been holding as he sits up. I take advantage of this moment, grabbing the bottom of his shirt and pulling it over his head. It gets caught up on his shoulder and elbow, and I take the opportunity to take a long look at his body. He is no longer the pale, sickly boy from the arena, rather a chiseled man that radiates a healthy vitality. As he frees himself from the shirt we both give a gentle laugh that breaks up the tension that has been building.

I draw Peeta back down to me, relishing the feeling of his skin on mine. He wraps his arms around me and we embrace for what feels like an eternity. I begin to feel impatient, desire building up within me once again. The smell of his warm skin is intoxicating. I bring my mouth to his neck, alternating kisses and nibbles, hoping to elicit the same feeling in him that he has in me. My mouth seeks his, and somehow, we roll and I end up on top, my heat finding his hardness. The pressure causes a ripple through my body that feels delicious, and I can't stop myself from grinding against him, shooting fireworks into my blood. Moans escape both of our lips as we continue grinding into each other, each motion bringing us closer to that ever pressing need. He rolls me back on bottom as he murmurs sweet nothings against my throat, the vibrations adding fuel to my fire.

My panties are soaked, and as the cool air of the room reaches me, they feel uncomfortable. I crawl under the covers, and peel off the underwear, flinging them to the floor already scattered with clothes. Then, I turn down a corner and pat it in invitation for him to join me. He looks at me with a moment of uncertainty before stripping off his pajamas and crawling into the bed. I feel a little rustling beside me, and then I watch as his underwear joins the heap.

I think back to finding Peeta by the river in our first games, the shyness I felt about his nakedness. So much has happened since even then, and I feel no embarrassment that he is naked now.

The relief I felt minutes before is gone, curiosity taking its place. I feel compelled to see him, to explore his body. "Can I see you?" I ask, my voice husky. He looks shocked, but he obliges, pulling back the covers. He's breathtaking, Finnick Odair couldn't hold a candle to him. Tentatively, I reach out and touch him. A hiss of air escapes his lips as I slowly stroke him. I can feel the life enter his manhood as it starts to rise. The velvety skin becomes warm and heavy under my hand and I continue to stroke him. I remove my hand, not wanting things to come to an end, and for a brief moment he looks slightly disappointed. I lean back against the pillows, and pull him to me. Our kisses quickly loose the easy slowness that we once had. Our moves take on a desperation. We seek comfort in each other as though we are trying to make up for lost time, or time only one of us might live to see. I feel my whole body quivering with anticipation. Peeta must have noticed, because he removes his mouth from mine and holds me tight. I roll my hips toward his, so that he is resting against my entry.

For a moment, we lock gazes and he holds perfectly still, his eyes silently questioning me. I give him a nod, and he begins entering me slowly. His gentle kisses pepper me as he pauses before going a little farther in. He sounds drunk as love words spill from his mouth, whispering my name like a prayer. I am touched by the consideration he is showing, his eyes constantly watching me for any sign of discomfort, going slowly, trying to make this as comfortable for me as possible. It is clear that it is taking every ounce of willpower he possesses. As he goes just a bit farther, there is an uncomfortable stretching sensation. He pulls back a bit before pushing all the way in, and I gasp as he fully sheaths himself within me, the discomfort giving way to pleasure that radiates warmth through my whole body. He kisses my forehead, gives me a boyish smile, and sets a slow and gentle pace.

We take our time, enjoying every moment. His eyes never leave mine, our fingers interlaced above my head, and his lips only leaving mine to speak words of adoration, of a longing only I could fill. I am startled by the sheer intimacy of it all, and I know that this is the moment. I decide to give him the thing he truly wants. I whisper, "Peeta, I love you."

His blue eyes become lakes, and a look of pure joy lights up his face. He doesn't hesitate a moment when he responds, "I love you, too."

There was never any doubt about the way he feels about me, his chant through the evening had told me so, but I still feel immeasurable joy when I hear those words. Tears of joy begin to slide down both of our faces, I feel like I'm drowning in pleasure, wave after wave until I loose control. Peeta quickly follows with his own release.

We lay there for what feels like an eternity, limbs tangled together, nose to nose, goofy grins plastered to both of our faces, but slowly, I feel Peeta begin to untangle from me, as he retrieves a small towel from the bathroom and gently cleans the sticky residue away. He places a gentle kiss on my lips, before returning the towel to the bathroom.

When he returns to bed, he pulls me tight to him, his body curling around mine. I revel in the warmth of his body, the safety of his arms, and fall asleep the the beating of his heart against my back. There are no nightmares tonight, just blissful contentment.

I awake to Peeta smiling at me, whispering about how if we don't get to breakfast soon, Effie just might come get us. He places a kiss on my head before releasing me from his embrace. He walks into my bathroom and turns on the shower, placing a towel on the warmer. He gives me a kiss, says he'll meet me at breakfast and whispers I love you, one more time. I catch his hand and whisper "How would you like to love me in the shower?"

Suffice to say, Haymitch laughed and Effie scowled when we arrived at breakfast, late.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Peeta's POV

I wake up to see Haymitch, and I wonder how he got to heaven. It looks like he's been waiting for me.

He smiles when he sees me, and places a hand on my arm. My arm is full of tubes. Must not be heaven after all. Katniss! If I'm here, I must not have been able to save Katniss.

Haymitch runs his fingers through his hair and blows out a breath.

"Peeta, we're on our way to District 13."

District 13, there is no District 13, we all know that it was decimated back in the Dark Days. But he continues, "we've got Finnick and Beetee, but I'm sorry kid, we couldn't save the girl." I let out an anguished cry and start removing my IV's, there is no life for me without her. Someone walks up and injects me with something. Darkness decends again.

This cycle continues several times, me removing my IV's, someone injecting me, darkness, but this time is different. I wake up in a windowless room, on a hospital bed, but there are no tubes to remove. After a few moments, Haymitch comes strolling in. Why won't he let me die?

"Peeta, I need you to stay with me. This is not the time for hysterics; not if you want to save the girl."

This has got my attention.

"Rumor has it that the Capitol has Katniss. There is no proof, yet, but there is a lot of buzz. Let's get you settled in, and see what we can find out."

I cautiously sit up, and find that I've regained full motor function. I follow Haymitch down the halls. Judging from the lack of windows, except for the skylights at the top of the main corridor, we must be underground. It is a sea of grey. The walls are grey, the ceilings are grey, everybody wears grey. My fingers twitch for my paintbrush, these large expanses of wall make me long for a canvas. I could do so much to fill the walls with life. Finally, I know what I must ask Haymitch.

"Why are we here? Why didn't we just go back home?"

Haymitch lets out a long sigh before running his fingers through his hair. He leads me into a small L shaped room with two narrow beds, a sink, and a small door that leads to a toilet and shower on one side, and a couch with a coffee table, and a small space that looks as though it may be used to hold an extra bed, on the other. Four eyebolts in the wall above each of the beds draw my curiosity. I look at Haymitch, and he points to the bed that holds a grey outfit, indicating it as mine, and waits for me to take a seat.

"There is no District 12. As soon as Katniss sent that arrow into the force field, they cut the power to District 12. Some kid rounded up as many people as he could and brought them to the woods that surrounded District 12, but there wasn't much time, and people weren't keen to follow." He takes a breath, giving the information time to sink in. "Peeta, I'm sorry, but your family didn't make it. Very few people from town did."

I nod in acknowledgement, and he slips out of the room leaving me to grieve. Since the last Hunger Games, I wasn't as close to my family, but it still feels like my heart has been ripped out. The woman I love, who finally returned my feelings, has been ripped from me, once again. She was my family, and my only peaceful dreams involve her, wrapped in my arms, I would dream of the future we might have together, sometimes building a family of our own. Now, I find out that I'll never see my parents and brothers again. My father's twinkling eyes dancing as he laughs, my brothers merciless teasing, the hope that someday my mother would find the happiness that she so desperately seeks, possibly in the grandchildren. I cry until no more tears come out, and exhaustion overtakes me.

Haymitch. This is not the face I wanted to wake up to, but there he is in the bed across the divide, staring at me.

"Finally, you're awake."

I stare at him quizzically. My stomach growls and he lets out a chuckle.

"You're wasting away to nothing, kid. Come on, lets go get some breakfast."

He places an arm under a machine on the wall, and it stamps something onto his arm, indicating for me to do the same. I place my arm in, and when it releases, I see a schedule. 8 a.m. Breakfast. I look at the clock, it reads 8:30. If I were at home, the bakery would be open, my family already up for hours preparing the bread and baked goods. If I were lucky, I would be preparing the frosting as a cake cools, letting the world slip away as I spread the fluffy frosting and form delectable creations. Instead, I'm following a surly, old drunk down the halls. "Peeta!" I hear called out, and I smile as I catch Delly bounding toward me. We had been neighbors, spending our younger years playing in our yard, drawing animals in the dirt or playing school. She always wanted to be a teacher. I look around to see that many of the faces look familiar, not in a way that I would know their names, but faces I've seen walking through town, on their way to the mines, or walking children to school. I do recognize a few faces, of people I actually know. People I went to school with. The thought comforts me. Delly snaps me from my reverie. "I've got to get to class, but I'll catch up with you during reflection," she says, before she bounds off down the hall. I have to hurry to catch up with Haymitch, as he stands in a line of people who are eyeing me as though I'm some sort of curiosity. I push the discomfort down. This has been happening ever since we returned from the first Hunger Games. I watch as non-descript grey porridge is slopped into my bowl, grab a spoon, and follow Haymitch to a table in the corner.

"It isn't much, kid, but it doesn't get better if you let it get cold."

I give him a faint smile at his joke, "yeah, thanks." I take a bite. Not much might be a stretch to the food that is expanding in my mouth, no matter how much I chew it, I can't seem to swallow it. I see laughter in Haymitch's eyes, but he schools his face into one of polite boredom as he pushes me a glass of water. Even the water here tastes bad, but I don't complain. A large watch I hadn't noticed Haymitch wearing begins beeping, and he picks up his tray, signaling for me to follow. We dispose of the trays, and hurry down the hall to a staircase that takes us further and further below ground. Haymitch is practically wheezing as we exit the staircase through a large metal door, and enter a conference room of sorts. There is a woman standing at the front of the room, and I can sense that she must be in charge.

"Peeta," she says, "so nice of you to join us. I'm President Coin." She smiles and shakes my hand, but there is no warmth in her eyes, or her smile. She seems calculating, and she gazes at me as though she is measuring me up. As my eyes scan the room, I catch sight of Gale. Perfect. He is watching Coin intently as she drones on about something. I see that he is also wearing a large watch, and unlike most of the people here, he is wearing the uniform of a soldier. I lean over to Haymitch, and tersely whisper, "What is he doing here?" A hint of amusement touches the corners of his mouth as he responds, "Who do you think led people out of 12?"

His response hits me like a ton of bricks. No wonder people from town wouldn't follow him, a kid from the Seam. My mother probably ran him off with her rolling pin if he came to the door. And there's a big if. He hasn't exactly hid his disdain of Merchants, especially me.

I know he must hate me. He's in love with the same woman I am. I remember the familiar feeling of my heart being ripped from my chest every time I saw them together, hand in hand ever since right after their fathers died in the mining accident. They would sell squirrels at the back door to my father. Occasionally I would answer the door, the joy of seeing her would always be drowned in the way that he had tucked her behind him, protecting her from whatever was on the other side of the door. He would negotiate the deals, handing her the money, and then taking her hand in his, they walked away. Sometimes, I would catch glimpses of them walking home from school together, corralling his brothers and her sister like doting parents. My stomach would roil, feeling like I was looking into their future, as he swung Prim up onto his shoulders; or the time he was holding his little sister Posy, and she reached over and put her chubby arms around Katniss' neck, planting a wet kiss on her cheek. They looked natural together, forming a world that involved just the two of them. Katniss had one friend, the mayor's pretty daughter, and Gale dated girls, until Katniss turned 16, and he didn't anymore. I suspected that it was because they were dating. I saw the way that he looked at her, as though the sun rose and set on her. The only relief I got was that she seemed oblivious.

In that way, I am glad that I was in the Hunger Games. It gave me a chance to have her undivided attention, worming my way into her heart. She may have called out to save him in her nightmares, but that was nothing compared to hearing her call out my name those nights on the train, limbs tangled together, hearing her say that she loved me, waking up with her in my arms. Will I ever feel that joy again? The walls feel like they are closing in. I silently stand, and walk out. I can't remember how to get to my room, so I wander down the hall and until I find a utility closet. I sit on the edge of a mop bucket and sob, wondering how Katniss is doing.

I close my eyes, imagining her sweet face looking up at me, and I place a kiss on her lips, pulling her close, and whisper all of the things I wish I could say to her right now. I open my eyes, wipe away the tears, and head back into the room labeled COMMAND.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Gale's POV

I watch stunned as Katniss ties the wire to the arrow, notches it in her bow, draws it back, and fires it at the sky. Suddenly, there is an explosion of lights, the arena starts falling in, and the cameras go black. Silence has descended across the town square, eyes glued to the screen. Moments later, the power is cut, and the only light is that of the moon. Lucky thing that it's a young moon, as we'll likely need it to find our way home.

I turn to Prim, wondering how two sisters can look so different, and tell her to hurry home and stay with her mother. I watch for a moment as she makes her way through the crowd. This gathering of people have come to watch these hometown "kids", and I know how much Katniss means to many of them. That's when I notice the lack of Peacekeepers. I hear the rumble of the engines, and I know that this can't be good. I look around, and while there are a few people dispersing, many are still silently staring at the screen, or quietly discussing what happened. I spy a crate behind the group, and stand on it. I take a deep breath, wet my lips, and let out a loud whistle. The sound seems to startle them, and they all turn to face me.

"Stay calm. I need everyone to stay calm and listen to me. I'm not sure what just happened, but I think something bad is about to happen. I need everyone to calmly and quietly head to the meadow. I will meet you there, and we will continue. We don't have much time, so gather the people, but leave the stuff. Hopefully, I'm wrong, and we can all head back here in the morning."

I watch as people begin to move, and notice that the men from my crew in the mine are heading toward me. In the short time that I've been in the mine, I've distinguished myself as being trustworthy, and was given my own crew, most of whom are gathered around me now. Quickly, I ask them to round up everyone they can, and meet me in the meadow. I remind them that time is of the essence, and that we can wait for no one. The guys split up the parts of town as I go to Katniss' house in Victor's Village.

Prim is waiting for me when I knock on the door, and while there are questions in her eyes, she gathers her mother and they follow me to the meadow. Once there, I instruct people to start tearing down a portion of the fence, and explaining how to get to our rondevous point, the cabin by the lake.

I think back to that fateful day, when she said that we should go, and I fought her. I should have just thrown her over my shoulder and taken off. Alive or dead, at least we would have been together, but this is not the time for reminiscing.

Thom had the foresight to bring candles, and I distribute them to a few people who will be leaders, then we split the group into smaller groups and begin herding them through the open fence. I collect the bows and arrows from the hollowed log, and dash back to the front. The last group is only about 100 yards into the woods when the first hovercrafts drop their bombs. We watch in horror as District 12 bursts into flames, people wailing for loved ones, but we press on. It is slow going, the ground is uneven and heavily covered in vegetation. A large portion of our group made up of Seam families, with their multiple children, women heavy with child, people injured in the mines, and yet we continue.

For 3 days we subsist on what we can hunt with 2 bows, trap with a small series of traps, fish we catch with one net and plants we gather. I'm surprised with how helpful Prim and Mrs. Everdeen are, as they quickly set up a medical station and treat people with plants they recognize. I'm worrying with how we are going to continue feeding everyone when a hovercraft comes into view. The group makes a collective gasp as it lands, but the uniform of the man stepping out is black, not the Capitol white. I make my way to meet with the man. He gives me a friendly wave as I approach, introducing himself as Boggs. It turns out that he is from District 13. He can't fit us all into the hovercraft, but he asks that I arrange the people into groups. While I do this, he arranges for more hovercrafts to evacuate us all.

I still feel slightly dazed when I think about it, of the nearly 900 people who made it to District 13 with little more than the clothes on their backs. Dalton, a guy from 10, tells me that they need us here, that there was a pox epidemic that left many of them sterile. They need new breeding stock, and us Seam folk, we have no problem breeding, especially now that we are fed and clothed and have medical care.

Somehow, when recounting their tales of escape from District 12, my name kept coming up. I've been given a higher rank and a Communicuff as a reward, which brings me to the meeting I am attending now. I usually have no problem paying attention during these meetings, but Peeta joined us today. I never was a fan of the soft Merchant kid, but I didn't really have to interact with him, save for the rare occasion that he opened the back door to the bakery when Katniss and I came to sell squirrels.

Katniss. I've seen the way he looks at her. I don't like it, not one bit. On one occasion, I even needled him a little, just hoping to start a fight, but the boy's so soft that he didn't take my bait. If it weren't for Katniss, there's no way that he would have won the Hunger Games, but there I was, watching as he confessed his love to the woman I plan to marry. I watched as she kissed him, cared for him, and that night in the cave, I punched a hole in the wall. Soon enough, Katniss came home to me, and while we weren't as close, it was my anger that caused the distance. She was there on my screen, holding his hand, sharing kisses, and embraces, and saying yes to his proposal, what was I supposed to do? What I should have done was volunteer to take his place, and joined her in the games, but she would have never forgiven me for leaving her mom and Prim. Maybe I should have believed her when she said that it was all an act, but it was a good act, and I was hurt.

I did put aside my hurt after the Quarter Quell announcement, it was then that he was good for her. You could see from a mile away that he was planning to surrender himself so that she could come back home. And, he got her to train... It's a miracle that anyone could get her to do anything, she's just as stubborn as I am. I also have to admit that it's hard to dislike him. He's smart, and funny, and not at all what I had expected, but he's clearly in love with her...

I watch him out of the corner of my eye, as he gazes off into space. He clenches his teeth when he sees me, but it must make him think of her, because a dopey smile crosses his face, and then a quick blush, followed by a smug look.

Something in those last two looks make me want to pummel him. Anger rises in my chest, and I feel my fist clench, crumpling the paper in my hand, but resources are scarce her, and wastefulness will not be tolerated, so I carefully smooth out the paper, and do my best to focus on President Coin.

I steal a glance at him again, and he looks like he's about to cry, right here in the middle of Command. He stands up, and just walks out, right in the middle of President Coin's update about something or other. I guess I wasn't really paying attention either. President Coin gives a quick update about the uprising in the districts, and releases everyone but Haymitch, Plutarch Heavensbee (the gamemaker from the Quarter Quell), and Fulvia, a film director. I've got to hurry if I'm going to make it to training on time, and District 13 takes punctuality very seriously.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Katniss' POV

A pearl. That's how I think of her. The product of putting pressure on coal, or in our case, two kids from the coal district. I think of Peeta's smile as he gave me the pearl on the beach at the quell. Joking about Effie's misinformation. Little did we know, I was growing one inside of me.

I had never wanted to become a parent. The fear of the reaping, or watching my child starve to death, was just too much to bear, but the only thing that keeps me going these days is the baby growing inside of me.

I think back to this morning, Effie holding my hand while the doctor came to talk to me about my pregnancy. Last week, after Effie told me about the pregnancy, they ran a full genetic panel. This morning, the results came in. There was so much that they could tell me about my baby. Peeta should be here for this, and I can't stop the flow of tears as I remember that Peeta won't be here for any of this.

I smile gratefully at Effie as the doctor begins telling me about the baby inside of me. A daughter, I'm growing Peeta's daughter. A little girl with his pale skin and blue eyes, and chestnut hair, a perfect blend of our hair colors. She'll have my height and build. Best of all, from the tips of her toes, to the top of her head, she will be perfect.

I can smell him before I can see him.

I was supposed to die in the Quarter Quell so that Peeta could live, but I couldn't even have that wish. Snow is angry. The berries were bad enough, but now, I've destroyed an arena. Why is he keeping me alive?

"Hello my dear, how are you doing?"

The smell of blood and roses overwhelm my senses, and it takes everything to keep from throwing up. Morning sickness doesn't restrict itself to morning, but I'd likely feel nausea anyway. My hand instinctively goes to my still flat stomach, protecting my little pearl. His face close to mine, he presses a kiss to my cheek.

"I hear congratulations are truly in order. How did the father take the news?" The smile he gives me makes my skin crawl. His words dripping with the implication that the father might not be Peeta.

"He was cautiously optimistic. I'm sure you caught the interview." I say, fire flashing in my eyes. I keep feeding the fire, because when the fire fades, the tears come, and I refuse to cry in front of President Snow.

"I think we should share the good news, don't you. The people of Panem _deserve_ to know that the star crossed lovers story doesn't end with Peeta's death. Your love story inspiring another generation of Panem. _I'm sure that you want to keep the baby in the best of health_." He doesn't even try to hide the threatening sneer.

President Snow rises, as he steps through the door, he turns and says "I'll be watching."

I shiver. The room feels like it dropped ten degrees. Haymitch's words echo in my mind. "You never get off this train." Why didn't I just eat the berries? I wish I could eat them now. I could be with Peeta again, and give our little Pearl the family that she deserves. Peeta would have been an excellent father. Love like that comes natural to him. I can picture it, Peeta holding her in his arms, her bright smile as he tosses her into the air. She has his laugh.

For a brief moment, I feel happy, holding on to what little I have left of Peeta. I know what I must do, I must do whatever is asked of me to keep this baby safe.

I'm tired, so tired. I never thought that closing my eyes could be more frightening than the games themselves, but the nightmares are more vivid than ever. The doctor said that's normal with pregnancy, but without Peeta's arms to comfort me, I find no relief in sleep. Lately, my dreams aren't of the arena, they are of a fate much worse than that; watching as Snow takes my baby, being unable to protect my baby, Baby Mellark being called out in a cheery voice at the reaping. Over and over again, these visions come.

Effie is shaking me, and as I open my eyes, I can see her look of concern. I see her school her features, plastering on the fake smile she showed me the day of the interview, a smile touches my face as I remember her words "Try and pretend! See, like this. I'm smiling at you even though you're aggravating me." Effie leads me down the hall to the Remake center, where I am face to face with Peeta's prep team. There is a slight moment of discomfort, and then I find myself being drawn into their arms, bonded by our shared loss. They are quick and efficient, taking me to beauty base zero, then pressing a button.

Portia strolls in and circles me, an appraising look on her face. She gives me a quick smile, squeezes my hand, and walks out again. The doors reopen, and Peeta's prep team are back at work, curling my hair, polishing my nails in a shimmery pale pink, and applying a light layer of make-up. A knock on the door reveals Portia with a dress bag, and as she slips the light weight dress over my head, I am awash in a mixture of grief and happiness. I would recognize Cinna's work anywhere. I'm poked and prodded, and the dress is slipped back over my head, leaving me in a daze of confusion, but one of the ladies from Peeta's prep team is helping me into the most beautiful pair of pale pink knickers, and a matching bra. I slip on the proffered pair of shoes, a moderate heel quite simple in style. My hair is pinned back, and I am walked to a mirror.

I gasp when I catch my reflection in the mirror, and a stab of longing fills my heart. I wish Peeta could see me like this. Pregnancy has rounded my curves already, my make-up lightly done, appearing as though I just have some gloss on my lips, my hair pinned away from my face, with ringlets hanging down my back, the pale pink lace, it gives the impression of a lovely young woman who's never been in the Hunger Games, she just radiates love. The dress is brought back, having been altered to fit my blossoming curves, and when they slip it on, I feel my eyes get misty. I feel beautiful, like I could finally be deserving of Peeta's words those nights in my room, as he told me that I was beautiful.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry about the bouncing POV in this one.**

**Hope you enjoy!**

**Chapter 5**

**Haymitch**

Plutarch and President Coin are arguing, bandying about words like mentally unstable... distracted... unsuitable...

I need a drink. Plutarch had the foresight to stash some spirits here prior to the blowout of the arena, but he's been rationing it, that bastard... My glass has been empty for quite some time, and I'm having trouble focusing on anything but refilling my glass.

Now they're talking about how they should have rescued the girl, how she would have been stronger and compliant. That's funny, the idea of Sweetheart being compliant, but they're going to just toss the boy to the side like that! I'm fuming as I slam my glass on the table, the heavy bottom making a loud thud, their eyes snap to me as though they'd forgotten I was in the room.

"I told you, they're a set. You can't have one without the other, there's no point. His heart beats for her, he's the fuel for her fire. Without the other, you may get short term results, but we're going to watch him waste away, and you're going to see her flame die out. She may be the face of the revolution, but he's the voice. You chose to rescue the Brain, and I think Beetee's a great guy, but I told you that you needed them both. They didn't survive out of selfish desire, they did it for one another. They may not realize it yet, and I hope to God that President Snow never realizes it, because in his hands he holds a bomb that could destroy both of them."

They stare at me as if I've got three heads, and I've had enough of this. I scoot my chair back, bow, and say "thank you for your consideration", before turning on my heel and walking out.

**Gale**

The next morning at breakfast my communicuff goes off. I quickly stuff the rest of my food in my mouth, and head down to command. Plutarch and President Coin are already there talking with Cressida, the film director, and two camera men. They end their conversation as I walk into the room, but we're waiting for more people. The door swings open, and Haymitch comes in with Peeta. Plutarch and President Coin stand at the front of the room, and address the room. Slowly, the information sinks in. We're going back to 12, with a film crew to make a propo, or propaganda spot. I'm not happy about it, I relive that night in my dreams, but Peeta looks like he's going to have a mental breakdown at any moment. I don't know what they're hoping to do, dragging him with us.

President Coin leaves Plutarch and Cressida to continue telling us their plans. I'm to wear the outfit I came out of 12 in, apparently Haymitch had packed Peeta clothes, and we're to meet at the hovercraft pad in an hour.

**Peeta**

Back to 12. I'm stunned, but I follow Haymitch back to our room. He must be tired, but he doesn't complain, so I keep my thoughts to myself. When we enter the room, he gives me a rare smile and says that he has something special for me. Great, he's packed me some crazy capitol suit. He throws me a paper sack, and when I open it, I am brought back to that night on the train. I hear the click of the door as Haymitch steps out into the hallway. There is the undershirt that I had been wearing when I walked Katniss back to her room, I can practically feel her through it, her fingernails lightly grazing my back as she removes it. The next night, she wore it, and only it, to bed.

I hear a light rap on the door, and hurriedly put on the shirt and a pair of khakis, but I just carry the sweatshirt. My lack of uniform is drawing attention, and I hear people whispering, but I ignore it, reveling in this little piece of her.

I sit next to Haymitch on the hovercraft, and close my eyes, because when I close my eyes, it feels like, for just a moment, she's in my arms again.

**Gale**

I watch as Peeta and Haymitch saunter up to the hovercraft pad. Peeta's lost weight since his arrival at 13, and he looks pitiful. Even I feel my heart softening toward him just a little. We sit in our seats, Haymitch across from me, Peeta next to him, Fulvia next to me, and the two camera men next to her. I've heard they're drying Haymitch out, and I wonder if that's why he looks so surly. There's no conversation on the way over, Fulvia trying a few times, but none of us really feel like talking. Peeta closes his eyes and sniffs his shirt, like a weirdo, but his smile, the look of relief, I know without a doubt that he's smelling her. My hand curls into a fist, and I desperately try to tamp down the desire to unbuckle my seatbelt and punch him; punch him because he was close enough to her that his t-shirt smells like her, and because part of me wants to steal his t-shirt and smell her, too.

I'm still trying to harness my anger when we are instructed to exit the hovercraft, dropping us in front of the justice building. I forget that Peeta hasn't seen it yet, and all of my anger dissipates as I watch him take it all in. He lets out a cry of anguish as he catches sight of the bakery, the house he grew up in above it, gone. Cressida has her camera crew focused on Peeta, asking him questions, but he just waves her off and heads into the bakery, a blob of melted metal that used to be an oven and the painted wood sign out front are the only indications that he's in the right building.

With Peeta gone, Cressida turns her attention to me. I take a deep breath before giving her a walking tour. I start telling her about that night, watching the games with Prim here in the square, the lights going out, the sights and the sounds. As we pass Peeta and Haymitch, who must have gone after him, they join our group. We walk down the road, now littered with bodies, some burned badly, others, decaying in the sun, and we head to the meadow that served as our rendezvous point. I talk about the fence, that night, and the nights that Katniss and I got trapped on the other side by the electricity. As we continue into the woods, I find myself talking more and more about hunting with Katniss, showing them where she and I would meet, the place we sat and talked about running away before the reaping. When we get to the cabin by the lake, I go back to talking about the three days spent here, trying to feed nearly 900 hungry people, less than 1/10th of the previous population of 12. We sit for a while, and I watch Peeta pull a flower out of the water. It's a katniss plant, the purple tuber she was named after. He carefully washes it off, puts it in his pocket, and then, he shuffles away.

I look up to see that Castor has gotten his strange behavior on tape, and I feel compelled to tell the group that it's a katniss plant, silently wondering to myself how he knew that, or if it's just a coincidence.

There is a somber mood as the group leaves the woods, each lost in their own thoughts. I'm surprised when I look over and see Haymitch staring at me as though he's trying to put a puzzle together.

Once we're back within the fence, I take everyone on a brief tour of the Seam, explaining what life here was like. I'm momentarily startled when Haymitch pitches in, forgetting that he hasn't always lived in Victor's Village. The houses in the Seam were made of wood, and the coal dust that is so prevalent seems to settle here, so when the bombs were dropped, fire spread quickly. I bring them to the spot that once held my home, reduced to a pile of ash the wind has been carrying away. There is little left of Katniss' former home, but I point it out as we walk past. I'm startled to hear a hiss, and I see the world's ugliest cat.

"Buttercup!" I cry out, picking him up affectionately. I wrap him in my jacket, tying it into a bundle with the sleeves, so that he can't escape.

We have one last stop, I suppress a chuckle. It was the only part of town spared, the Capitol making sure that they'd have somewhere nice to stay when they came back to rebuild. As I enter Katniss' house in Victor's Village, I can sense that he's already here. Sure enough, there's a stack of canvases on the couch and a small bag of what looks like painting supplies. I look at her kitchen table, where I lay after the whipping, and press two fingers to my lips as I remember her kiss, her promise to stay and cause lots of trouble. He stops short when he comes out of her room, photographs and her families plant book in hand. I grab her fathers hunting jacket out of a closet upstairs, and all of her mother's medical supplies, and without a word, we leave.

Haymitch lets out a low whistle as we climb back on board the hovercraft, muttering something about looting, but I ignore him. I hold Katniss' hunting jacket close, and take a nap during the quick flight back to 13.

When we arrive back in 12, I zip Katniss' hunting jacket around my pillow, grab the bundle containing the cat, and knock on Prim and her mother's compartment door. Prim opens the door, and I'm almost bowled over by the enthusiastic hug.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" she exclaims, taking the disgruntled cat from my arms. The cat, for his part, seems equally happy to have Prim back.

My attention is arrested by the painting of Katniss hanging on the wall. I feel Mrs. Everdeen follow my eyes, and she simply says "It was propped by the door when I got back from my shift at the hospital." as explanation. I don't know if she honestly doesn't know, or if, more likey, she's trying to protect my feelings. I'd recognize the artists work anywhere, even if I hadn't seen him with it earlier. Plus, how many artists work revolve so heavily around this single subject? I politely excuse myself, but agree to sit with them at dinner. It'll be nice to share a meal with someone who cares about her as much as I do.

**Haymitch**

I had argued with Plutarch and President Coin that it was too soon for him to go, but they're so impatient to have a mockingjay that they sent him anyway, hoping that it would bring out some fire in him. I was worried that it would crush him, but it's too soon to tell yet. He took a slight detour coming to our room, and he's been sleeping with one of his canvases ever since. I can probably guess who's painted on it.

The trip to District 12 was about as uneventful as I could have hoped, all things considering. I don't know how I didn't see it, I guess it's probably because I didn't want to, since I'm a little soft on the boy, but Sweetheart's cousin is in love with her. It's as plain as day. I'm guessing that they're also not cousins. It was unmistakable when the boy was clearly remembering a tender moment with Sweetheart, and Gale looked like he was going to pummel him. Wouldn't that have been something for one of Plutarch's propos.

Seeing Gale's feelings for Sweetheart was something like putting glasses on. Everything becoming a little clearer. I wonder how Sweetheart feels about him, and I'm uncomfortable, remembering the ease between them while Gale trained us for the Quarter Quell, and remembering how much time those two spend together alone in the woods. I'd occasionally catch glimpses of her heading out there on Sunday mornings. The memories feel like a rock in the pit of my stomach. She always looked happy, truly happy. It was one of those rare times when you didn't need to coax a smile out of her, and you forgot that she scowls all of the time. This might not be good for the boy.

I let Peeta sleep until the command meeting the next morning, where Plutarch and Cressida proudly unveiled their videos. They look tired, and I'm guessing that they've been up all night, but they look pleased. Three spots were created with the material; two of Gale, one talking about life in 12 contrasted by the destruction, the other talking about the exodus from District 12 with commentary from survivors. The last one showed Peeta's pain over District 12 and his heartbreak over Sweetheart. Gale sat stone faced through the last video.

When the meeting is over, I talk to Beetee and Plutarch, letting them know my feelings about that last video. After my discussion with Plutarch and President Coin yesterday, I think it was irresponsible to even create that propo. If it ever airs, the best case scenario is that President Snow realizes just how much leverage he has over us, worst case, he realizes how to use his bomb. While there are no promises, Plutarch clearly seems to be taking my words to heart. They play Gale's propos around the clock, apparently breaking into all of the districts except 2, and the Capitol. In the afternoon, I receive a delivery to my room, a bottle of white liquor with his thanks, and an invitation to join them in command after dinner to watch Beetee try to take over the Capitol broadcast.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Katniss' POV

I can honestly say that this is somewhere I never expected to be again, yet here I am, waiting in the wings for Caesar to call me on stage. Effie cried when she saw me, hugging me and saying, "I promise, you have Peeta's full attention right now." It was bittersweet, yet comforting, to think of Peeta in Heaven and watching over little pearl and I.

It takes a moment to register that Caesar has called my name, and the applause is deafening when I walk out on the stage. Caesar's first words are drowned out by the crowd, and we almost have a moment of deja vu from my first games. I take his hand, and allow him to help me into my seat.

I wave to the crowd, and blow a few kisses, and the crowd goes wild again. I've decided that I will spend the rest of my life being the twirling, giggling girl from my first interview. I will lock away the true part of me, deep inside, spending the rest of my life keeping Peeta's child safe and happy. Caesar's face is frozen in a mask of good humor, but I can see frustration flashing in his eyes as he waits for the crowd to die down.

"Hello Katniss, or is it Mrs. Mellark?" Caesar croons.

"Oh, Caesar, we're old friends, Katniss will do." I reply cheekily.

"Speaking of Peeta, I'm so sorry for your loss."

I feel my heart breaking again, and take a second to compose myself, "Thank you, Caesar," I say softly, my voice breaking a little at the end. My hands are shaking, and I place them in my lap hoping that no one will notice. "I guess we truly were destined to be star crossed lovers." My vision is blurry, and Caesar is kind enough to give me a moment to blink back the tears. Off stage, they appear to be having a technical difficulty, and I'm thankful for an extra moment to compose myself.

My smile is bittersweet as I look at him. "That's not why I'm here today." I'm still blinking back tears, desperate to get this interview over before the tears begin to fall.

"Oh, really?" Caesar queries.

"I wanted to share with the people of Panem that I am expecting."

"Expecting what, my dear?" Caesar asks, confusion apparent in his expression.

"A daughter." I reply, watching as it dawns on Caesar what I'm saying.

"Well, heartfelt congratulations to you." Caesar says, taking my hand in his.

I feel tears welling up again, then I see a flicker of Gale on screen, walking around the rubble of District 12's Justice Building. It cuts to Prim with my mom, animatedly talking about something. They're all wearing odd uniforms. The camera man is desperately signalling Caesar to wrap up the interview. In my confusion, I almost miss hearing Caesar.

"I hear that we'll see you next month, Katniss."

"Yes," I reply with a wistful smile, twirling a lock of hair around my fingers. "You've all been invited to hear her heartbeat with me."

And with that, the cameras pan out, and the Panem anthem begins to play. I break down in tears before I'm completely offstage, and I allow myself to crumple in the wings, abandoning myself to my grief.

Effie places her hand on my shoulder, calling for someone. I feel myself lifted off of the ground, and look up to find myself staring into Darius' face.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

**Gale**

I can't believe my eyes when she walked out onto the stage. She looks fantastic. She's gained a little weight, and it looks great on her. It's a little strange to see her looking so girly, her hair long instead of her signature braid. I wonder what it would feel like to run my fingers through it. When Caesar announces her, he adds Mellark to her last name, reminding me that they claim to have had a toasting. We may not have been as close as we used to be, but I'd like to think that she would have told me that they'd gotten married. She skirts the issue by having him call her Katniss.

Apparently, the Capitol believes that Peeta is dead, and she doesn't seem to know otherwise. I wonder if she knows what happened to District 12. Are any of those tears for me, or does she think that we're all happily living in District 12?

Did I just hear what I think I heard? Caesar seems to have read my mind, because he's clarifying. Then she says it, she's expecting a daughter.

All I can hear is the blood rushing to my head, and I feel an uncontrollable anger. I've got to get out of here.

As I walk into the hallway, I punch the wall, the pain in my hand temporarily venting the pain that I feel. How could she betray me like that? Does she really care about me so little that she would sleep with him, raise his baby, without a second thought? I think back to the day of the reaping, when she told me that she never wanted kids. Was it that she doesn't want kids, or doesn't want my kids? I quickly walk to my room, and shut the door, pacing in the privacy of my own room. Commander Boggs, President Coin's head soldier, is knocking on my door. I crack open the door and tell him that I don't feel like talking, and he replies in a gentle tone that I at least need to get my hand looked at. He won't leave till I agree, but instead of the hospital, I find myself at Prim and her mother's room.

**Prim**

We just sit in stunned silence. My sister just announced her pregnancy on national television. It's a relief to see her, though. It's been over a month since she was taken to the Capitol, and since then, all we've heard rumors, but we had no proof that she was alright.

There's a know knock on the door, and on the other side is Gale, his hand bleeding.

"Gale, what happened?" I exclaim.

Gale is muttering to himself, but I can make out bits and pieces: should have known better... should have volunteered... could kill that baker boy...

My mother slips out of our compartment as I lead Gale to the sink. After washing his hand, I examine it, and while it is sore, it doesn't appear that he's broken anything. I have him sit on my bed, and he sobs as I apply ointment from the first aid kit, and wrap his hand in a bandage. It's hard to see him so heartbroken, he's been like a brother to me. I give him a light sedative, telling him that it's a pain reliever, and walk him to his room, a few doors down. I think that he requested we be near him. I gently tuck him in, and head back to my room, where I sit on my bed, hugging my knees to my chest.

I guess I didn't realize the depth of Gale's feelings. I knew that Gale loved Katniss, but she never seemed to notice. She can be so oblivious to that sort of stuff, always so practical. I should be grateful, it's that practical nature that kept us alive, but I always hoped that she'd fall in love. I know that she loves Gale, I just don't think it's the same way he loves her. He's so much like her, so private with his feelings, and stubborn, so stubborn. Everyone assumed that someday they would marry, but I always worried that if those two got together, they would slowly build a wall between each other. Even so, I wish he weren't hurting right now.

I'm not all that surprised about Peeta and Katniss. I've seen them glancing at each other when they don't think anyone else is watching since we were kids. Peeta's been in love with her since I can remember. I used to make Katniss take me to look at the cakes in the bakery window. They were the closest thing we had to art in the districts before Peeta started painting. The cakes were beautiful, but secretly, I used to love the way that he'd gaze out at her, without her even knowing it. There were a few times where I had gotten my hopes up that he would come out and confess his love for her, but he never did. It may be chance that they were reaped together, but I think it was fate. I think that they were always supposed to be together, and the universe decided to give them a shove.

She wasn't planning to come home from the Quarter Quell. We had sat together the morning of the reaping, Katniss braiding my hair like I was a little girl again. I looked up at her and there were tears in her eyes. I started to comfort her, telling her that she could come home again, but she just hugged me and whispered, "It's Peeta's turn." That's when I was sure. She loves Peeta, even if she doesn't want to admit it to herself.

**Haymitch**

After dinner, I bring Peeta to command with me to watch Beetee work his magic. We're just settling in when the projection glows to life, the Panem anthem playing. Caesar is there, his trademark hair and suit a light shade of yellow, opening the interview in his usual style, Beetee hard at work, pressing buttons and tuning dials, when I hear him call out his guest: The Girl on Fire, Katniss Everdeen, er, Mellark!

The crowd goes wild, and Peeta stands up, and walks to the projection. His eyes are riveted to the projection as Sweetheart walks onstage, looking better than ever. She is radiant, a beautiful young woman. I have to admit to feeling a little disappointed that she looks so good. Is it possible that I was fooled into thinking that she truly felt something for the boy?

I feel sick, watching her work the crowd, smiling and wave to the crowd, even blowing kisses. Where was this girl when I was trying to keep her alive in the first games? Could she really care for the boy so little? I'm afraid I don't want to know the answer.

I'm not sure if it's covering up Peeta's lie from the arena, or apathy toward the boy that causes her to choose her first name, but the audience is eating her up. I wonder if the tears are real, or if they're for the audience, too.

Beetee's gotten through, and I hear Plutarch telling him to air Peeta's propo. I bellow "for the love of God, man, do not do that." I don't know if it's shock, uncertainty, or both, but Beetee loses the signal before anything plays.

The boy is drinking her in, his hand reaching out to her. There is a new sorrow in his eyes, as he realizes that she thinks he's dead. There is another boy in the room whose eyes never leaving the projection. If I were a betting man, I'd bet that they're both holding their breath. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Plutarch holding up a bottle, and looking at me. I could really go for a drink right now.

As the Capitol regains their broadcast, she smiles. Though this one's not as bright, it still feels like salt in our wounds.

"That's not why I'm here today" she says, to Caesar. We all lean forward as she drops her own bomb on us. "I wanted to share with the people of Panem that I'm expecting." A collective gasp fills the room. Caesar clarifies "expecting what, my dear." We're all on the edge of our seats.

"A daughter." she answers. And the bomb explodes. I hear a chorus of cries, Gale goes streaking out of the room, Peeta looks delirious, and Beetee's breaking through the feed again.

Beetee flips a switch, and we see Gale in front of the rubble of the District 12 Justice Building. Plutarch looks displeased.

On screen, Katniss has a look of confusion, but shakes it away, wrapping up her interview with a promise to be back in one month. The camera pans out, and the Panem anthem plays again.

I grab Peeta by the elbow, and steer him out the door and into the hallway. There's a bloody hole in the wall, and I know without a doubt who left it.

**Peeta**

She believes that I'm dead. There's a part of me that wanted Beetee to air my propo, so she can see that I'm still alive, but Haymitch is clearly against it. My heart aches for her, but a small piece of me is hurt that she's not more upset about it. She said she loved me. She wouldn't lie about something like that, would she?

I'm relieved when we get back to our compartment. I need a little time to process everything. Was that real? Even if it's not, it's the happiest daydream that I've ever had.

"So, our little Mockingjay is going to have a baby." He looks at me, gauging my reaction. It really happened, she really said that.

"A daughter." I respond, and I can't keep a goofy grin off my face.

"And you're sure it's your bun in her oven?" He asks, eyeing me warily.

I take a swing at him. I haven't done that in a while. Oddly, he looks happy about it. We both saw Gale, and the hole in the wall, I could see how he might wonder. I hope Gale didn't break his hand. I can't help but feel a little compassion for the guy, it could have easily been me punching holes in the wall.

I can't believe it. A father! I'm going to be a father! This is the happiest news I've gotten since we came here. Katniss is having my baby. A little girl.

She looked healthy, and happy, like she was glowing. When Caesar called her Katniss Everdeen Mellark, it was one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard. I'd put it right next to her saying I love you, and that I'm going to be a father! I'm a little disappointed that she has him call her Katniss, but it makes sense, we never actually had a toasting. I'm going to remedy that as soon as we get her back.

"Haymitch, you've got to help me get them out of there."

We sit silence, with stupid grins on our faces, as we try to come up with a plan. All I have to do is keep her alive, and bring her home. A father! I've got to pull it together, and find a way to get her out of there.

There's a sharp rap at the door, and Haymitch opens it to find Mrs. Everdeen.

Mrs. Everdeen is yelling at Haymitch, and it's a sight to behold. The slight, pale woman getting in the face of our resident ogre. I school all hints of humor, because I know that it's about to be my turn. She yells at him for not watching us carefully, for not properly caring for Katniss. His job as mentor was to protect us, and in this, she thinks he failed. I know that she's hitting right in the heart of all of his insecurities, but I can't defend him. I share her feelings about letting the Capitol capture Katniss. He promised me that he'd save her instead of me.

She turns to me, all out of fight. She just looks like she's about to fall apart. I give her a hug, and whisper, "It'll all be alright, we're going to get her back. I promise you."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

**Peeta's POV**

As soon as I hear the click of the door latch, I begin assembling my paints, setting up my easel in the corner of the room. Haymitch, clearly worn out, drifts off to sleep with his shoes still on. I think this is the first time I've ever seen Haymitch sleep during somewhat normal hours, and I can't help but smile as his soft snores fill the air. With every stroke of my brush on the canvas, I feel a little closer to her, from the way her eyes sparkle, to her soft smile, to the way her ringlets fell, and the dress that was definitely Cinna's design. Without thinking, I capture the protective way that she pressed a hand to her stomach. I've always knew that she was brave, but now there's a new kind of bravery, an almost fragile strength. I work late into the night, and as the hours march on, I'm transported back to the Quarter Quell.

The horizon was just starting to glow as we sat on the damp sand, our shoulders and hips pressed against each others. She watches the jungle, while I watch the water. I feel her sigh, and lean her head against my shoulder, and I know that it's time. I run my hand down her braid...

_"Katniss, it's no use pretending we don't know what the other one is trying to do." _I take a deep breath, willing my breathing to steady, "_I don't know what kind of deal you think you've made with Haymitch, but you should know he made me promises as well." _I feel her stir beside me, but I continue, "_So I think we can assume he was lying to one of us." _She raises her head and looks me in the eyes.

"_Why are you saying this now?_", she asks, and my breath hitches as I see the little worry creases on her brow.

"_Because I don't want you forgetting how different our circumstances are. If you die, and I live, there's no life for me at all back in District Twelve. You're my whole life. I would never be happy again." _She begins to object, but I put my finger to her lips. Doesn't she understand how hard this is for me? _It's different for you. I'm not saying it wouldn't be hard. But there are other people who'd make your life worth living." _I pull the medallion over my head, gathering the chain in my hand as my thumb finds the catch, opening the locket to show her what I mean. I had Effie have this made. On one side, there's Prim and her mother, and on the other side is Gale. I'm just hoping that she understands. When I die, I want her to go on living, I wish it didn't have to be this way, but wishing won't change the fact that there will only be one winner this year, and it must be her. When I see the glisten of tears well up, I know she understands what I'm saying. _"__Your family needs you, Katniss. No one really needs me." _I inwardly cringe as I hear the self pity in my voice, but she speaks up_._

_"I do. I need you."_

This is not the response I wanted. Under normal circumstances, these words would be my greatest joy, but now, they're only making my Herculean task harder. I draw a deep breath, needing to make her understand, when she presses her lips to mine. There is a warmth in her kiss, the kind that causes my body to react to hers, and I'm wishing that I was a little less exposed; the acid fog had ruined our Quarter Quell uniforms, leaving us in just our underwear. As if sensing my discomfort, Katniss straddles my lap, hiding the proof of my excitement. I try to speak, but each time, she just continues kissing me, until I give in to the sensations. I've missed the contact with her, the chaste nights on the victory tour, not to mention the steamy nights, and mornings, and days... Her kisses become more demanding, and I can feel her need. She reaches down and swiftly frees me through my underwear, returning her hands to my hair. She runs her hand down my arm, and moves her underwear to the side before moving her hand up my chest, crossing her wrists behind my head and drawing me to her. I feel her swiftly lift, rocking her hips and impaling herself on me. I let out a hiss of pleasure, and our mouths find each other again. I slow the pace of our kisses, my hands on her back, pulling her close as we rock our bodies together, reveling in the sensations. We move together unhurried, drawing out and savoring the moment, neither one of us wanting it to end. This is more than the joining of bodies, this is a joining of souls. I'm worrying about how much more I can take when I feel her shudder, her body clenching around me, and I lose myself as her body begins milking my release. She slumps against me, and we stay like this for quite some time, but I know that the darkness will only hide us for so much longer. I run my hand down her back, and run my finger down the inside of her underwear covering her thigh, righting it with what looks like a caress. She slides quickly returns me to my underwear as well, but we stay cuddled in this position. The sky is streaked with pinks and oranges before she moves from this position, coming to sit next to me, my arm wrapping around her as she leans her head against my chest.

_"__I love you,"_ I hear her whisper.

_"I love you, too."_ I respond before adding, "_You're going to make a great mother someday."_ I hope that she understands my sincerity. This isn't for the benefit of the Capitol, or the viewers, or the sponsors. It's my honest desire that she feel no guilt with Gale, and allows Gale to give her a family. She'd be an exceptional mother, the perfect combination of strength and softness. Her desire to protect her children would never allow her to abandon her children as her mother did, or beat her children as my mother did. With this, I place the chain around her neck, following it down to the medallion, allowing my fingers to brush against the swell of her breast. I place another kiss on her lips, before returning my gaze to the sunset.


	9. Chapter 9

**Haymitch's POV**

I am awakened by the beeping of my communicuff. I open my eyes to a mural of a beach and a sunset. Am I still drunk? I open my eyes again, and it's there, covering the wall where Peeta's bed should be. I get the feeling that District 13 doesn't appreciate things like this. Peeta's bed has been moved to the other side of the room, and he's fallen asleep, covered in little flecks of paint. It seems the kid stayed up all night painting. I see the easel tucked in the corner, and I walk around it to see that he's painted her, from the interview. The painting captures her perfectly, while conveying love, adoration, and longing. I rouse him and we make our way to the command meeting.

Stares and whispers follow us as we make our way through the twisting maze of corridors. We pass Boggs, waiting in the hallway just outside of Command. Seems a little odd.

All conversation stops when we walk into the room. They could at least pretend that they weren't talking about us, and I'm about to make a snarky comment, but I feel Peeta come to a halt. I place a hand on Peeta's shoulder, guiding the kid to a seat in the corner. The silence is deafening. The sound of the handle being turned draws everyone's eyes to the door as it swings open.

Boggs walks in, Gale right behind him. So that's what he was waiting for. It's good to know that someone cares about that kid.

Gale looks heartbroken, his hand is bandaged, his eyes puffy and hollow. What a difference a day makes. He is far removed from the alert, angry kid so eager to go to battle just yesterday. Now, he just looks defeated. He slumps in his chair, ignoring the stares, twisting his communicuff around his wrist.

I turn my attention back to Peeta, his eyes have a clarity that they had been lacking, and when Plutarch addresses the room, he actually seems to be paying attention.

* * *

"The time has come to move on without our Mockingjay." Plutarch pauses, his eyes scanning the room, "In her present state, she is of little use to the Rebellion, and our plan to rescue her would place her in unnecessary jeopardy. It is clear that the Capitol understands that they'd have rebellion in their streets if they harm her, so while her presence creates unnecessary distraction, we believe that it will not ultimately thwart our cause." A self satisfied grin crosses his face. Then, with the fanfare of a true gamemaker, he says, "I am pleased to announce that we will have two Mockingjays; I am proud introduce our new Mockingjays, Peeta, Soldier Hawthorne."

You have got to be kidding me. Does that man have two brain cells to rub together, or is his head so far... What's he playing at? Choosing both of them is going to be a problem. The bright side, it allows Sweetheart to choose when she gets back to us, but is she ever coming home, since apparently we're happy to just forget about her.

"What if I don't want to be your stupid Mockingjay?", Gale shouts. There is a smoldering anger in his eyes. I hear gasps and murmurs throughout the room. This is not the sort of behavior people expect from someone as loyal to the cause as Gale, but I'm proud of him. Ever since I realized that he is in love with her, I've been racking my brain trying to remember all that Katniss told me about him. Truth be told, more than a few of the memories are blotted out by booze, but I recall her telling me about how they met, two fatherless children just trying to keep their families alive. I recall her telling me about a time when she sprained her ankle, and Gale willingly carried her some seven miles out of the woods. I remember the day that Gale was whipped, the way that she threw herself in front of the whip, without thought of her own safety, and the way that he stoically hid his pain for her benefit in the weeks that followed. I truly hope that Plutarch quickly recognizes the strength of their friendship, and the depth of his love for her, or he may find a rebellion on his hands, right here in District 13.

The room goes absolutely silent, all eyes go back and forth between Gale and Plutarch. Plutarch nervously clears his throat, before shouting, "You will arrive in the prep room at seven hundred hours tomorrow, and that is an order!" Boggs instantly places a hand on Gale's arm, giving him a slight shake of the head. I don't envy him. Looks like he may have as much trouble on his hands that I have on mine.

* * *

7 a.m. finds me sitting next to Boggs. Peeta looks like crap. His lack of sleep is evident, and I'm not sure that the angry and brooding look is quite what Plutarch had in mind for these propos. Especially when Gale wears that look so well. The only words he spoke last night was "A new face on the rebellion will keep her safer.", but the seething rage emanating from him was clear. He's not ready to give up on bringing her home.

The small room was clearly designed with Sweetheart in mind. Besides Boggs and I, it holds her prep team, and the two young men in love with her. I look at Boggs, his face looks calm, but I see his body is tense. I guess I'm not the only one who questions the wisdom of placing the weight of the rebellion on the shoulders of three teenagers involved in a love triangle.

The tension between the two young men is palpable, but the prep team is too simple minded to notice, as they gush to each other about the romance of it all, congratulate Peeta on the baby, pry for details of the wedding and pregnancy, and prattle on about their favorite parts of the games and favorite star crossed lovers moments. Gale, for his part, manages to keep his emotions in check behind his stoic exterior. Peeta, on the other hand, is silent. This is not the same boy who goes out of his way to be friendly and personable to everyone.

The prep team's gaudy colors look garish against the austere backdrop of 13, and their bubbly chatter a stark contrast to the concise nature of 13. My mind drifts to Effie, her outlandish Capitol garb against the backdrop of District 12. I think of the last time I saw Effie...

In all of the years that I've worked with Effie, I'd never seen her cry. I had headed back to the apartment after seeing Katniss and Peeta settle into camp with Finnick and Mags, waiting until I was certain that Katniss wasn't about to kill her new allies. I was startled to see Effie. She looked so frail, tears streaking her makeup, but for the first time, I also saw humanity within her. She truly cared for our "little victors", in a way that transcended party invites, and I found myself desperately wanting to cheer her up. "Have you been up to the roof? Peeta said that even difficult to please Katniss likes it up there." to my astonishment, Effie agreed, and I grabbed a blanket before ascending the stairs.

The roof is just as nice as Peeta described, as I watch Effie walk to the edge, surveying the crowd below. There is an air of outrage and discontent, a stark contrast to last years gaiety. I noticed Effie shiver, and as I wrapped the blanket around her slight shoulders, she gave me a faint, but genuine, smile. We stayed on the roof until sunrise, talking about everything from how the kids were doing in the games to her childhood, but what surprised me was her shrewd assessment of the scene below.

According to Effie, the Capitol citizens were truly saddened by these games. The victors had become so much a part of their lives; they had viewed them as honorary Capitolites, as friends or family, and they were also outraged by the idea of a pregnant woman being forced to fight to the death. Without the distraction of the more popular victors, and the constant changing of trends that they inspire, the Capitolites had begun to think about what was happening, about how they felt about people, let alone children, fighting to the death, and though it was slow, attitudes were changing, and a movement was beginning to form.

Effie, without the mask, the makeup and the ridiculous clothes, was an exceptionally smart and beautiful woman, who cared deeply for our kids, and I was beginning to care for her. Damn the Capitol, taking away everyone I care about. I'll do whatever it takes to keep them safe, even if I have to burn it down myself.

"Haymitch," I snap my head up to see Peeta, "You coming, or are you going to stay here and daydream?"

I can't help but feel proud. It seems that I'm starting to rub off on the kid. I shake off that thought as I rise, my muscles sore from lack of activity. I'm just thankful that it's boys. When it was Katniss, I'd be here for a few more hours. However, when it's Katniss, she always made sure there was a little liquor to keep me company.

I follow our group onto the hovercraft, and take a short nap as the hovercraft brings us ever closet to the life we left behind.


	10. Chapter 10

PP CH10

**Chapter 10**

**Katniss' POV**

I'm not sure how I got here, but I'm in my old room at the training center. Darius is here. His eyes never leave the door, as though he's guarding me from what lies beyond.

My stirring has drawn his attention, and as our eyes meet, I give him a weak smile. I hope that he understands how grateful I am for his presence. I see him tense as footsteps approach my door, and when I see him relax, I turn to see Effie's head poked through the door.

"How did I get here?" I ask.

"Darius carried you," she replies, as if it's obvious. I shake my head. Darius carrying me away from the stage is my last memory, but that's not what I mean. Since I'd arrived, I'd been in the tribute training room, handcuffed to a bed, why is it that I'm in my room, free from shackles?

"No, I mean _here,_" gesturing to my room, and my lack of restraints.

She gathers me close, but I recoil in terror as I smell the faint odor of roses. The look of hurt on her face is clear, but she answers me gently.

"Compliments of President Snow, along with the magnificent bouquet of roses in the living room." I nod numbly, and I request that she throw out the roses; I blame it on my pregnancy.

"What happened to Johanna and Annie?" I asked.

"I'm sure they're around here somewhere..." A look of discomfort crosses her face, but I don't know what it means.

An awkward silence decends between us, and I watch her bite her lip while studiously examining the tip of her shoe. She looks back at me, giving me a warm smile, "You were so brave during your interview. I'm so proud of you," she says before leaving the room.

I don't feel brave, I don't feel anything, but the overwhelming desire to be with Peeta.

Peeta. There is nothing that I wouldn't give to be with him at this moment, to feel his strong arms around me, his breath on my hair, guarding me from the nightmares that so often plague my dreams.

I feel bereft. There is so much I wish I had told him, but it was Peeta who was gifted with words. Peeta hadn't been afraid to acknowledge his feelings, I hadn't even been willing to admit that I had feelings, aside from my love of Prim.

Prim had somehow figured out that I love Peeta, and she had urged me to tell him, before it was too late. I had been foolish, afraid that sharing my feelings would only urge his to sacrifice himself for me. At least I told him once, but I wish I had told him over and over. There are so many thoughts I wish I had shared; how thankful I was for him, how having him by my side made living as a Victor bearable, that if I were to bring a baby into this world, I couldn't imagine a better father, and countless other things I'll never get the chance to say.

Never had I imagined that I'd be without him, bringing his child into this world on my own. Peeta was supposed to be the one who made it through the Quell...

This was the one thing I knew for sure; if Peeta died in the arena, I'd die with him, but I would do everything in my power to ensure that he made it out alive.

The tears slide down my face, and I make no move to hide them, as I grieve for all of the moments we won't have him by my side. There is nothing I desire more than to be with him now.

* * *

Understanding is evident in Darius' gaze, as he comes to the side of my bed. Gently, he lifts me into his arms, cradling me as if I were a small child. There is a subtle rocking motion, and it takes a moment before I realize that he is timing it to his gait as he conveys me down the hall. I hear Effie screaming at him, but I tune it out when he stops before a door and sets me on my feet.

I take a deep breath, and smile gratefully at him before opening the door. Somehow, he knew just what I needed.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

I'm not sure why, but I've never been in here, but when I look around, this room is distinctly Peeta's. I can feel his presence, as though he's going to stroll through that door at any moment. Peeta's clothes are strewn about, leaving a trail to the bathroom, where he's left the cap off of the toothpaste. I remember his conversation with Caesar during our first games, and turn on the shower. I leave it on his setting, allowing the room to fill with his unique scent, sweet with a hint of spicy, his scent enveloping me like a warm embrace. I shut the bathroom door, and quickly strip my clothes and stand under the water, letting the scalding water wash away the makeup, and the tears.

I catch my reflection in the mirror as I step out of the shower. I've lost some weight, but a small pooch has begun to appear where I'm growing our pearl, his final gift to me. My reason to carry on. I wrap myself tightly with a towel, braid my hair, and make my way into the bedroom.

I pull on a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that were discarded over a chair, and I can't help but smile at the memory; it's what he wore to my room the night before the games.

His closet is filled with clothes I recognize, and I lovingly touch the sleeve of the suit he wore to the Quell interview. Could he have suspected that there was truth to his words about the baby? My fingers continue running along the tidy line of sleeves, until they stop at one I've never seen before.

I gasp, and try to choke back fresh tears as I see a beautiful tuxedo. It's the perfect shade of grey to enhance Peeta's blue eyes, cut to compliment his broad shoulders, a pattern of flames embroidered onto the body and sleeves in an iridescent thread, and there is no doubt in my mind that this was made by Cinna for the wedding.

Cinna, too good, and too talented, for the fate that was given to him. I wonder what he'd think, if he could see me now, so broken without Peeta. Somehow, I think that he'd understand, and that he'd find just the right thing to say, probably about how excited Peeta would have been about the baby, and that if there's a heaven, he's certainly watching me and our baby.

There's a light rap on the door, and when I open it, I see Darius motioning for me to follow him. He leads me to the table piled with food, and Effie in her usual seat. I hadn't realized I was hungry, but the sight of the food makes my tummy rumble. I take the seat opposite of Effie, and motion for Darius to join us, but he just blushes and shakes his head. The past 24 hours seem to have bonded Darius in a way that I would not have expected, and Effie chatters on about Capitol gossip throughout dinner, but never mentions anyone I know, there's no news about the other Victors, or my family. The crying and full stomach leave me tired, and Effie excuses me from the table.

I pad back down the hall to the bed I shared with Peeta, and smile as I see that Darius has set up a cot just outside my door. It appears that someone has put my spile, pearl, locket and parachute on my nightstand, and for some reason, they bring me great comfort. I open the locket, set it on my nightstand so that I can see my mom and Prim and Gale. It's getting late, and I bet that Prim is already asleep, my mom is probably sitting in the kitchen with a cup of tea. I wonder if she's thinking of me. She wasn't always the best mother, but she was an excellent healer, and there are so many questions I wish I could ask her.

I summon an Avox, not wanting to wake Darius. The red haired woman comes to me, and I request something I should have requested long ago, a book about pregnancy.

I decide not to skip anything, and read in wonder about the changes that have already begun within my body. As I read about fertilization, I can't help but feel thankful that I'm not having twins. On occasion women would have twins in 12, but often, it ended in sorrow for the family. Having a baby was occasionally risky for a woman in 12, having twins could be a death sentence.

For the first time, I feel thankful to be in the Capitol. The trauma of the games, and my subsequent depression, could have cost me my baby, but thanks to the Capitol, Peeta's daughter is still healthy. A bundle of cells dividing. My eyelids begin to droop as I read on, fascinated by the magic of it all.

* * *

My door flies open, banging noisily against the wall, snapping me out of my slumber. I reach for a weapon, and my fingers make purchase on the cool metal of the spile. I hold it between my fingers, the sharp end pointed at the intruder. I am momentarily blinded by a bright light, and as my eyes adjust, I hear a blood-curdling scream, and the sound of bodies crashing into the floor.

I peer over the edge of my bed to see a blonde woman pinned beneath Darius. "Well, I never...", she screeches, and I am started to find that the blonde is Effie. Darius must have come to the same conclusion, because he has hastily risen to his feet. He is blushing to the tips of his ears as he extends a hand to Effie, hoisting her to her feet.

Without the colorful wigs, and the strange makeup, Effie is quite beautiful. Her pale skin highlights the blue of her eyes, while her delicate features are classically beautiful. Her long nightgown looks like something Madge might wear, white cotton trimmed in lace, and I am amused to find that she is barefoot. She shifts her weight so that she can cover one foot with the other, while wrapping her robe tightly around her small frame, a light flush coloring her cheeks.

"I... I... I heard you screaming, and when it didn't stop, I thought there was something wrong.", she stammers, her eyes concentrating hard on the floor.

"What?", I ask.

"On the train. On the train, you would scream, but it would always stop after a moment."

"Oh, Effie...", my vision blurred by tears threatening to fall, "Peeta. Peeta always came to me. Why do you think we started to share a bed? It was his only chance at a full night of sleep. We guarded each other from the horrors of our dreams."


	12. Chapter 12

**Authors Note**

Thank you for the reviews, it is because of you that I am blowing the dust off of this chapter and getting it finished already. My plot bunny escaped, and took my outline with it! I'm sorry for the delays, and I appreciate the patience. Don't worry, big things are happening soon.

* * *

**Chapter 12**

**Peeta**

The remains of District 12 no longer smolder.

The air is thick; heavy with pain and sorrow, and acrid, causing bile to rise in our throats, and tears to prick our eyes. The smell of death lingers, and ashes swirl in the wind. How long will it take before the ashes of District 12 blow away, and all that's left is the memories of the handful of survivors that made it out?

We have returned to District 12 to shoot more detailed interviews, meant to tug on heartstrings and stir up fear and anger. Back in 13, they didn't even tried to hide their disappointment with my previous performance. The only reason that I was even being allowed to reshoot was because Beetee was having such limited success breaking into the feeds of the Districts, and virtually no success with the Capitol. And let's be honest, it's also because Haymitch wouldn't stop pestering them until they conceded.

It's still eerie to be back in 12, but I needed to come back. While the camera crew set up, I stop by my house in Victor's Village, grabbing my sneakers, and a few other items I had used to train for the Quell. Since Katniss' interview, I've come to a realization; Snow's never going to let her go.

Train and make a plan to rescue Katniss, that's how I'll spend my time now.

Cressida has me sit on the steps of the justice building, just feet away from where I stood next to Katniss, not once, but twice. The red light on the camera turns on and from where she stands behind Pollux, Cressida asks what I'm thinking about.

"I am standing just feet away from where my life changed forever.

I have been in love with Katniss Everdeen since I was 5. I spent years watching her; watching her sing on our first day of school, watching her walk to school hand in hand with her sister, watching her grow thinner and thinner as she starved after her father died... I watched her sacrifice to take care of her family. She could have had more food and less work, but she wanted to make sure that on the day of the reaping, Primrose Everdeen would only be written on one slip of paper.

One slip in thousands, but the odds were not in her favor. The odds were never in our favor.

I wasn't surprised when Katniss volunteered for Prim. As I stood there, watching her make her way up to the stage, I thought about volunteering... I had fallen in love with Katniss when I was five, and I knew that while I might be alive, without her, I wouldn't be truly living. I was ready to volunteer to protect the girl I loved, but as you know, I didn't have to. The odds weren't in my favor either.

I was never meant to become a Victor. I was an ordinary boy from District 12. I was a baker. I didn't know how to survive in the elements, or the first thing about fighting, but standing beside her on this stage, I had an opportunity. Instead of being just another piece of cannon fodder in the games, I could help the girl loved return home to her family, to those who loved her. My death would mean something, and maybe, just maybe, she would come to see the depth of my love for her." For a moment, I can't help but remember Katniss attacking me after that first interview, and worrying that she would never realize that I had been telling the truth.

"Against all odds, I came home with the girl of my dreams." I give a gentle smile, waiting for my unseen audience to sigh, "but **_still_** the odds were against us, because not quite a year later, I was forced to enter that arena with her again... I entered the Quarter Quell prepared to lay down my life for her. Once again, it was my hope that I could return the woman I love to those who love her..." My eyes find Gale, who is kicking a rock in the square, thinking back to the years of watching them together. "But against the odds, we both made it out of the arena alive, again. In an arena meant for breeding hate, we found love, and our love has created life. A life that came to be against all odds, and is a monument to my love. So I'm choosing to fight. I'm fighting for love, and hope, and a future for those I love."

"Don't give up. Even against insurmountable odds, there is hope. And this hope is worth fighting for."

From behind the camera, a beaming Cressida asks if I have a message for Katniss.

"Katniss, don't worry about the odds, we are meant to be together. I love you, and our little one, and I'll see you soon."

"Cut!", Cressida yells. She smiles triumphantly at me, and for the first time since I left the arena, I feel a flicker of hope.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

**Gale**

"_I knew I should have volunteered._" I take a deep breath, surveying the woods I spent so much time in, and trying, unsuccessfully, to control the rage I feel. I'm back at the rock Katniss and I used to sit on, watching the woods as though any moment she's going to burst into the clearing, bow in hand, and a smile on her face.

She's in the capitol, and I'm filming another damned propo.

"That day, in the square, I should have volunteered, but I didn't. I had a promise to keep..." I can't stop my hand from running through my hair as I take a deep breath. The anger that is bubbling to the surface is threatening to spill over as tears.

"Katniss and I aren't cousins. The first time I saw Katniss, we were in the justice building receiving medals. Medals that were supposed to make up for the loss of our fathers." I can't keep the venom out of my words, but that's why I'm here. President Coin thinks my anger is just what the rebellion needs.

"It was about six months later that I first met Katniss... I had begun sneaking into the woods that surround District 12 to trap in order to feed my family. I'd never seen anyone in these woods, but there she was, a tiny wisp of a girl, examining my snare." A small chuckle escapes as I remember her, wide eyed and full of false bravado. "We didn't become instant friends, Katniss has never been that kind of girl, but we earned each others respect, which grew to trust, friendship, and eventually... love."

I can't help but smile, thinking about her smile, kissing her before the Victory Tour, her kissing me before she left for the Quarter Quell... Someone clears their throat from behind the camera, and I snap back to reality. This is my chance to get Katniss back.

"Nothing in the Capitol is real. People in most districts don't look forward to being tributes in the Hunger Games, we're not interested in glory. And those of us left at home, we're forced to watch our friends and family fight to the death. It's not entertainment to us, it's heartbreaking." I feel my heart contract, remembering Katniss running from the fire, running from the careers, and watching her lay there, wondering if she would regain consciousness after her run in with the tracker jackers...

"Contrary to Capitol beliefs, we aren't unrefined in the districts to be rustic, it's because we lack food, real education, and opportunity." The anger is back, but I've got to get control of it if I want to rescue Katniss.

"There's a reason that everyone fell in love with Katniss when she volunteered for her sister. _It was the first genuine moment the games had ever seen." Pride rings through my voice._ "Katniss isn't the giggling girl you met in her interviews, she's the kind of girl who won the respect of an entire district, by keeping her family fed, raising her sister, and her quiet strength and determination. She doesn't need make-up or fiery dresses. _I won't say that she didn't look good_, but Katniss is never more beautiful than when she's in the woods, eyes bright, and glowing with happiness. In the woods with me was the only place that she would genuinely smile." I can't help but smirk at the camera, thinking of Katniss the time we found the large strawberry patch.

"The Capitol would have you believe that love is a fleeting moment with Finnick Odair, or something from a soap opera, or something shared by the Star Crossed Lovers of District 12. They forced Katniss to pretend to be in love, first to survive, and then for your entertainment. They forced her to pretend to be in love with a boy she had nothing in common with, a boy who had never known hunger, or the responsibility of taking care of a family. The truth is, she loves me, and I love her, and - "

There is a commotion, and I turn my head to look just in time to see Peeta tackle me.


	14. Chapter 14

_Author's Note: Thank you for the reviews, I'm sorry for the delay, I thought I had posted this chapter last week._

* * *

**Haymitch**

Sometimes people forget that Peeta is a Victor.

Citizens of 13 think he's crazy, or broken. I don't think anyone outside of Command even knows that he's a Victor. Very few people there have spoken to Peeta at all.

President Coin didn't like Peeta the moment she met that broken boy, and Plutarch seems to have forgotten that he's the same silver tongued victor that he always was. People from 12 like to think of the gentle baker. They like to forget that he survived going head to head with the best of them. They like to forget that his specialty was hand to hand combat. Well, Gale's just gotten a reminder. Kid deserved it anyway, running his mouth off like that.

It only took a few moments for Boggs and I to break up the skirmish, but both boys got some good punches in. Between Gale's eye swelling, and Peeta's bloody lip, I can't help but wish that Peeta could have kept himself out of trouble. They've made no secret of their disappointment with Peeta in District 13, and now he's attacked their golden boy. On the bright side, he's still got some fight left in him. I've been worried about the ghost he's become.

I grab the bag I saw Peeta bring over earlier, and as I climb the hovercraft ramp, I hear Plutarch asking Cressida if they got footage of the fight. I guess some things never change.

Peeta's vibrating with energy, and as soon as I come into view he blurts "Hey Haymitch, mind if I sit in the cockpit?" His uniform is dirty, but still in good shape, and his lip looks like it will be alright, but his eyes are bright with excitement. It's a nice change from the mopey boy he's been lately. The cockpit's probably a good place for him right now, so I wave him toward the door. I'm not sure if that scuffle was enough for the boys to make peace. It doesn't matter who she loves until we get her back, and we need to get her back, soon.

I nod at Boggs as he takes the seat across from me, Gale next to him, eyes fiery. Boggs raises an eyebrow at me, and I just say, "cockpit." He nods his head, obviously relieved. Gale is still bristling, and the hovercraft's not big enough to handle the two of them fighting.

There's something about being back in District 12; it makes me think of Katniss, of the 46 kids I couldn't get out of the arena, Maysilee, my family, my girl, and just how much I want to drink. I searched my house, but there wasn't a drop of liquor anywhere. I'm ashamed to say that I searched Katniss' as well, but I got all of it last time we were here. I happened to find a few empty bottles, filling them with water in hopes that I might reconstitute any residue that dried inside. Plus, there's something comforting about the familiar clank of bottles in my pocket.

By the time I stop my musing, Gale and Boggs are muttering furiously to each other. They quit talking when they feel my gaze on them, so I uncap a bottle, and take a big swig. It doesn't take long for them muttering to resume. I try to ignore them, but then I make out a rather terse Gale say, "Do you think I wanted to say those things? Do you think I really wanted all of Panem to know how I feel? Honestly, the Katniss I knew was so stubborn, there's a good chance she wouldn't pick either of us. Do you think I want the entire country to be witness to that rejection? And she hates surprises, this will make her feel embarrassed." His eyes are glowing with a rage that couldn't be manufactured, but Boggs whispers seem to calm him, at least a little. Gale's next words almost startle me out of my charade. "Peeta's a little soft, but he's a really a good guy. Even I couldn't help but like him. I didn't want to add to his pain..." Just then, his eyes flick up at me, and remembering himself, he drops his voice back to a whisper.

I heard his speech. If not for Katniss, and not as a jab toward Peeta, why would he say those things?


	15. Chapter 15

**Authors Note:** Here is a bit of fluff, so you know that I haven't forgotten about you. My New Years Resolution is to get this story finished in a timely manner. I've been having a quite severe spell of writers block, so if anyone has any requests, go ahead and let me know.

* * *

Now that I've left my room, there's a pent up energy that I can't seem to shake. I've been pacing the apartment, but Effie's making these huffing sounds, and looking like she's seriously contemplating locking me in the closet. The open layout of the apartment was nice when it was filled with people, people like Peeta, Haymitch, Cinna and Portia, but now it makes it hard to give Effie any space. Not without going back to the bedroom. That's when I remember the roof.

I'm assaulted be memories, and I hurry back to the kitchen, nearly tripping in the process, and order a picnic.

* * *

I climb the stairs slowly, my body weakened from my confinement.

I'm assaulted by memories as I take in the rooftop. So many of my favorite memories are here.

After breakfast on the day before the interviews, Haymitch and Effie canceled coaching, saying we could handle ourselves. When I lamented that we couldn't go anywhere, Peeta had suggested that we come up here. We'd grabbed blankets, ordered a bunch of food, and had a picnic in the flower garden. We fed each other little bites of food, stole kisses, that increased with need. He was feeding me a piece of chocolate when I gently bit his thumb, then sucking it until his eyes darkened. He carried me into the gazebo, still wrapped in a blanket, our mouths never separating, as we alternated undressing each other and holding each other close. Within moments we were naked, save for a blanket he kept loosely draped around us. He holds me at arms length for a moment, a blush turning even his ears pink, before he looks down at the ground. He carried me to a bench, laying me down on the blanket, kissing a trail of kisses starting with my forehead, down my nose, to my lips, where he lingers for a moment, before continuing his steady march down my chin, neck and chest. He nuzzles the space between my breasts, before continuing down my stomach, kissing the place that may will soon round with little pearl. I gasped when he found the place where my pulse throbbed between my legs, and when his tongue made contact, I cried out, shattering the silence. My senses were under attack, struggling to stay in the moment, and when he began alternately lapping and sucking, I was driven over the edge. I had not yet returned to earth when I felt him enter me, driving me to new heights, his thrusts getting harder and faster, my moans only encouraging him. I gently ran my fingernails through his hair and down his back, crying out for him to join me, savoring the sweet relief I felt as we found release together.

We lay intertwined for some time before he wrapped me in the blanket and carried me back to our picnic.

Late that afternoon, I had cut vines and flowers, weaving us flower crowns as Peeta sketched me. We lay in the sunshine, my head in his lap, when he looked down at me with his startlingly blue eyes, his fingers playing with my hair. _"What?" I ask. _

_"I wish I could freeze this moment, right here, right now, and live in it forever," he says. _

_Usually this sort of comment, the kind that hints of his undying love for me, makes me feel guilty and awful. But I feel so warm and relaxed and beyond worrying about a future I'll never have, I just let the word slip out. "Okay." _

_I can hear the smile in his voice. "Then you'll allow it?" _

_"I'll allow it," I say. _

_His fingers go back to my hair and _he draws my face to his. We make love in the sunshine, slowly, drinking each other in until we collapse against each other, our lips bruised from kissing. I rest my head on his chest, enamored by the steady cadence of his heart beat, and he wraps us in a blanket. _I doze off, but he rouses me to see the sunset. It's a spectacular yellow and orange blaze behind the skyline of the Capitol. "I didn't think you'd want to miss it," he says. We stay on the roof until bedtime and then quietly slip down to my room without encountering anyone._ Remembering our prep teams will wake us in the morning, I don his undershirt from last night, before climbing into bed.

The_ next morning, we're roused by my prep team. The sight of Peeta and me sleeping together is too much for Octavia, because she bursts into tears right away._ They gave us a moment of privacy, and I gave Peeta a kiss that promises something more, hoping that he'll spend his day thinking of me.

* * *

The chill of the evening pulls me from my reverie, and I'm all cried out. I gather up the remains of my picnic, depositing them in the kitchen before heading to Peeta's room. The bed still smells like him, and I fall asleep telling our growing pearl all about her father.


End file.
